CATEGORY: Little Pieces Of Life

Hello, I’m Joy.

I’m one of your basic emotions, and I’ve been with you from the very first moments of your life. You recognize me in a smile that appears without effort, in laughter, in that warmth you feel when something beautiful happens or when you’re close to people you love. Sometimes I arrive with excitement and energy; other times, I’m much quieter — a gentle sense of pleasure, satisfaction, or enjoyment. I don’t always appear in the same way, but whenever I do, your brain and your body recognize me. And then, without you even realizing it, a whole series of small changes begins inside you.

Instead of simply explaining who I am, I thought I’d take you on a little journey. Don’t worry, you don’t need to get up from where you are. Our journey will take place inside your own body. We’ll enter from the top, through your head. Come along, then. First stop: your brain.

Things here are a little more complicated than you might imagine. You see, I don’t have a little room with a sign on the door that says “JOY.” A shame, really. I’d quite like that. When you feel me, different areas and networks in your brain begin working together. Some are involved in reward and pleasure, others in attention, memory, motivation, and the way you perceive what is happening to you. And this is where my real work begins. Because I don’t come along just to put a smile on your face.

When I appear, I can make the world around you seem a little bigger. Your attention opens up, your thinking becomes more flexible, and you may feel more inclined to play, explore, create, connect with people, or try something new. Scientists have observed exactly this broadening of thought and possible actions when we experience positive emotions. You see? I’m not just a smile. I make quite a bit of noise in there.

And since we’re here, I want to show you something else. Because I don’t make all that noise on my own. Your brain has an entire communication system, and when something gives you pleasure, motivates you, or creates a sense of anticipation, millions of nerve cells are constantly exchanging messages. One of the best-known messengers involved in this communication is dopamine. You may have heard it called the “happiness hormone.” But things aren’t quite that simple. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter, and its role is far more interesting than simply making you feel good.

Think, for example, of a trip you had been looking forward to for a long time. You didn’t need to reach your destination before you started feeling good. You may have felt happy while booking the tickets, packing your suitcase, or even imagining what you would do once you got there. Yes, I can arrive even before the thing you’re waiting for actually happens.

Dopamine is involved in this process of anticipation and motivation. It helps your brain recognize what matters to you, learn from rewards, and motivates you to approach something again when you expect it to bring you something positive. So don’t always look for me only at the end of the journey. Sometimes I’m already there in the anticipation.

There is, however, a small detail I want to explain. Wanting something and enjoying it once you finally have it are not exactly the same thing to your brain. You may desperately want that trip, search for hotels, plan routes, and count the days until you leave. All that anticipation motivates you to move toward something you expect will bring you pleasure. But when you finally arrive, sit down in a little café, and enjoy the view you had imagined for so long, something different happens. You’re no longer anticipating. You’re enjoying.

And your brain knows the difference very well. Dopamine plays an important role mainly in desire, motivation, and the pursuit of reward. Pleasure itself, however, is not exclusively its job. Other brain systems are involved too, including those in which endogenous opioids act — substances naturally produced by your own body. See how complicated I am? You simply say, “I’m happy,” while an entire team is working together inside you.

And perhaps this explains something that has happened to you many times. You may want something very badly and, once you finally get it, discover that it doesn’t give you as much pleasure as you expected. The intensity of desire does not always guarantee the intensity of enjoyment. That’s why I, Joy, am not found only in the things you chase. I’m also found in your ability to pause for a moment and enjoy what is already happening.

And before we leave your brain, I want to clear up a small misunderstanding about an old acquaintance of mine: serotonin. You may have heard it called “the happiness hormone.” It sounds nice, but we’ve given it a little more responsibility than it deserves. Serotonin is primarily a neurotransmitter and is involved in many different functions in your body, including the regulation of mood, sleep, appetite, and other important processes. So there isn’t a simple switch that raises serotonin and brings me up with it.

And I’ll tell you something else that may surprise you. Most of the serotonin in your body isn’t even up here in your brain. It is produced in your gastrointestinal system. That doesn’t mean that serotonin from your gut simply travels to your brain to improve your mood — things are much more complex than that. Your brain and your gut, however, are in constant communication through neural, hormonal, and immune pathways.

So if you were expecting me to tell you that I have a magical chemical formula, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you. I don’t exist because one substance inside you has increased. I’m the result of a much more complex collaboration between your brain, your body, your experiences, and the way you perceive them.

And now that we understand a little better what happens up here, we can continue our journey. Come down a little with me. Because although we started in your head, I don’t live only there. You feel me throughout your entire body. So let’s move a little lower. I want to show you what happens when I begin to spread through your body.

First I pass through your face. I have to admit, I find it rather difficult to hide there. A smile, the expression in your eyes changing, a laugh that sometimes escapes before you even have time to hold it back. Your body has already begun to take part in what you’re feeling.

Then I move lower. To your breathing, your chest, your heart. But I don’t always behave the same way here. If I arrive quietly, as contentment or calm, your body may be in a more relaxed state. But if I appear as excitement, things change. Your heart may beat faster, your body may fill with energy, and you may want to move, talk, laugh. Joy doesn’t always mean relaxation. I can be quiet, but I can also be full of intensity.

And somewhere around here we meet a system that works constantly without needing any instructions from you: your autonomic nervous system. It helps regulate your heart, your breathing, and many other functions in your body. Emotions affect its activity, and I’m no exception. But I don’t have one single “bodily signature.” The way your body responds depends on the kind of positive experience, its intensity, and on you as an individual.

So don’t always try to recognize me in exactly the same way. Sometimes you may feel me as calm, sometimes as warmth, and sometimes as so much energy that you can barely stay still. All of these can be versions of me.

And you know something? I don’t need to be here all the time to do my job. Nor do I need to chase away your other emotions to make room for myself. There will be times when fear, sadness, or anxiety takes my place. That is life, and that is how your emotional world works.

I can’t promise you that you’ll never feel anxious, afraid, or sad. That isn’t my job. But when I do arrive, I can help your body remember that it doesn’t have to stay there forever. Sometimes even a small moment of joy is enough for your body to begin finding its balance again.

When I arrive, I don’t simply lift your mood. I open your horizon a little. I make you more willing to look around, to play, to try, to create. As if I were opening the windows of your mind just a little wider.

And you know something? I’ve been doing this since you were a child. Think back to yourself then. When you were happy, you wanted to run, play, discover, make things with your hands, laugh at the smallest thing. You didn’t stop to wonder whether the moment was important enough to enjoy. You lived it.

As you grew older, of course, you became a slightly more demanding customer. You started setting conditions for me. “I’ll be happy when I finish this, when I achieve that, when this problem is solved.” And many times I was already there, in something much smaller, but you were too busy waiting for something bigger.

Don’t underestimate me just because you usually meet me in your good moments. Some of those moments leave something behind. A memory you can return to. A person you have learned you can turn to when you need them. An experience that reminds you that you have been through difficult times before and managed to get back on your feet.

I don’t make your difficulties disappear. I’m not that ambitious. But I can be part of what you build within yourself to help you face them.

And I have another weakness you’ve probably already noticed. I really like company.

Think about what you do when something truly wonderful happens to you. You receive good news, achieve something you’ve been waiting for, or something happens that fills you with excitement. Very often, one of the first things you do is look for someone.

“You won’t believe what happened!”

For some reason, when you feel me strongly, you often want to share me. You want to see the smile on someone else’s face, hear their voice, celebrate together what has happened. And that need is far from insignificant. Sharing positive experiences can strengthen both the positive emotion itself and our sense of connection with the people around us.

So yes, I can have a wonderful time on my own.

But in good company, I have a tendency to grow.

And since we’re talking about my habits, I have a somewhat curious relationship with your sleep too. When you sleep well, it is often easier to find me the next day. And when your day contains more positive moments, there are signs that I, too, can have a good relationship with your sleep.

Who helps whom more? We’re still figuring that out.

Personally, I vote for you getting a good night’s sleep. I can’t be expected to do everything around here.

And there’s something else I want to tell you about myself. I have a small problem with habit.

At first, things between us go wonderfully. Think of something you wanted very much and finally got. A new home, a job you had been hoping for, a relationship, a trip, even an object you had wanted for a long time. During the first few days, you notice it, enjoy it, feel happy that it is part of your life.

And then time passes.

What was once new gradually becomes familiar. The new home simply becomes your home. The view you once stood at the window admiring becomes the background of your everyday life. The person you once couldn’t wait to see is now there every morning. Even an achievement you thought would make you happy for a very long time eventually becomes part of your normal life.

It doesn’t mean that you stopped loving these things or that they no longer have value. Human beings simply have a remarkable ability to adapt to changes in their lives, even pleasant ones. Something that once stirred a strong emotion can, over time, become familiar and attract less of your attention. In psychology, this tendency is studied as hedonic adaptation.

And I haven’t necessarily disappeared.

You’ve simply grown used to my presence.

That’s why sometimes you need to pause for a moment and look again at something that has become so familiar that you’ve stopped seeing it. Not to force yourself to feel happy — I don’t respond particularly well to orders — but to give yourself the chance to notice again what is already around you.

I have another small complaint about you. You look for me far too often in the “after.”

“When I get that job, when I earn more money, when I find a partner, when I go on that trip, when this difficult period is over.”

And I have nothing against your big dreams. Go after them. After all, I like seeing you look forward to things, make an effort, and achieve what matters to you. Just don’t schedule all our appointments for the future. Because while you’re waiting for that big moment before opening the door to me, I may already have passed through your day without you noticing me.

And since I’ve complained that you sometimes overlook me, let me tell you something else. You can learn to keep me around a little longer. No, I don’t mean grabbing me by the sleeve and shouting, “Don’t go!” I mean staying a little longer in a beautiful moment while it is happening.

Don’t rush through your coffee without tasting it. Look up for a moment when the sky is beautiful. Let a compliment actually reach you instead of immediately replying, “Oh, come on.” Stay a little longer in a hug, a laugh, a piece of good news.

You call it savoring the moment.

I call it: finally, you noticed me.

But there is something else I’ve noticed about you. Sometimes I arrive and, instead of letting me sit with you for a while, you almost immediately begin showing me the door. Something beautiful happens and you think, “Okay, don’t get too excited yet.” You achieve something you really wanted and, instead of enjoying it, you wonder how long it will last. You have a wonderful day and somewhere between the laughter and the pleasure, that little thought appears: “Something will happen and ruin it.”

Sometimes you even stop me before I’ve had the chance to appear properly.

“Don’t get too happy, don’t jinx it, don’t get your hopes up.”

As if you believe that if you allow me to grow, it will hurt more if something goes wrong.

And you know something? You’re not the only one who does this. Some people find it difficult to surrender to a positive emotion. Some because they are afraid it won’t last, some because they expect something bad to follow, and others because, somewhere deep inside, they even struggle to believe that they deserve to feel good. Research has explored both the fear of happiness and this tendency to “dampen” our positive emotions.

But I’m not asking you for any guarantees. Something beautiful doesn’t have to last forever to be worth enjoying today. I can’t promise you that sadness will never come after me. It might. Nor can I promise that something beautiful will never come to an end. It might.

But if every time I appear you make me smaller to protect yourself from possible future sadness, then you are not only avoiding a pain that may or may not come — you are also losing a joy that is already here.

And between us? When I arrive, don’t be so quick to send me away. Make a little room for me and let me sit beside you for a while.

And before I say goodbye, perhaps you’re wondering why I wanted so much to tell you about myself. After all, you’ve known me all your life. You didn’t need me to teach you what it feels like to be happy.

But I wanted to remind you that I’m not simply the pleasant side of your life. I’m an emotion, like all the others, and I have my own reason for being here. I show you what gives you pleasure, what motivates you, what you want to move toward, what matters to you. Through me, you can discover something about your needs, your desires, the people and the experiences that give greater meaning to your own life.

So perhaps the next time you feel me, instead of simply saying, “I’m happy,” pause for a moment and ask yourself:

“What is giving me joy right now? And what does that tell me about myself?”

Because in the end, I didn’t come only to introduce myself.

I came to help you get to know yourself a little better.